Ride on a Shooting Star
by Curimuch
Summary: They're brighter than a shooting star when they're together. Leaving a trail of magic on the lives they travel by. Some people can't help but to follow either the star or the partner glued to the ride, leaving an even bigger trail behind on a monotonous country.
1. String along

Downtown was _way_ downtown. 'Transfers' was something serious and tedious.

"I cannot believe the time limit on these slips." Back where Lucas was from, pedestrian traffic wasn't this hectic. He was up and commuting early, and as someone who wasn't a morning person; far too early. Up at 6:00am and just a ways through by 6:45 AM. He didn't need to be in class until another hour and wanted to use his extra twenty to look around. He always wanted to be aware of his surroundings, but at this rate, that wouldn't be until _after_ school.

He saw the bus he needed to be in and _squeezed_ his way in through the crowd that lasted even within the city bus itself. He would have to insert his slip after his stop.

"Should've just taken the subway instead," he sighed. He was unable to see any of the windows. Large people, tall and or wide in view, people shouldering cellphones, students with over stuffed bags...even an old man who was in a scooter of some sort. He had its table unfolded to do newspaper crossover puzzles.

Definitely should've just rode the subway.

-.-.-.-.-

He arrived ten minutes early to school but not to class. How pristine the halls and floor were was strange but welcomed. He straightened his sweater that was provided by the school and walked on. He paid close attention to room numbers that were actually in order to his shock. In his old school building, one moment you're at A2, the next door is suddenly C7 next to the janitor's closet and teacher lounge. Here, there was even mirrors lining the walls. Not one broken or scribbled on, and because of this he was even able to see his entire uniform. School colors of white, green, and fancy looking gold at the edges.

His hair ruined the look. Scruffy and curved all over the place at each and every corner of his head. He didn't even realize it (or he just learned not to care) until now. He done what anyone could do with only their hands: smooth it down with a few strands sticking up at the front of his face instead of the atypical back. A little more presentable, he picked up his pace. Not quite running but as quick one could be while remaining polite. He arrived five minutes before the 'due date', but every seat except his own was filled. Immediately, his pale face colored in as his shoulders scrunched up protectively in an overactive response. He hurried to his seat, and on the glossy blonde wood of his desk he could _very_ clearly see his own horror.

Other students had tablets and netbooks, not all of them at least. His brand new books and pens were a safe decision after all. He carefully picked them out, spent his savings on them. Finer pens, some looking like they came out of earlier eras of the world. What he would write in were hard-back books that were even color coded; they were notebooks in clever disguise. He couldn't help himself and even sacrificed his internet to make the purchase entirely possible. His admiration came to a halt when 'the professor' made his way in. The authoritative figure straightened his bow-tie as he cleared his throat and announced, "Good morning, class."

Lucas realized it would take him a long while to get used to this 'otherworldly' atmosphere. Over the years he simply gotten used to chaos; in its purest form—in _all forms_. On one end he enjoyed neat, but calm and orderly folks unnerved him for reasons he didn't have the time to figure out and digest yet. His eyes darted around the room for something flawed such as students now on cellphones. _**Good**_. Maybe some were instant messaging on their netbooks if wi-fi was available.

...He did miss the internet. The ability to look up any and everything, to catch up on premium channel shows he otherwise wouldn't subscribe to, to see others **happily** live and _share_ their dreams on interactive blogs.

"Aren't you the new student? Not going to introduce yourself to everyone?"

"Uh can't I-um... do that informally, please?"

"You ican/i but-" his teacher paused for a moment in thought. Soon after he nodded in understanding and stated, "Just on another day then. I say it is a must, but getting here and settling on your first day is tough. It's more fair and sensible to do it on another day."

Lucas resisted the urge to hide his face. He's been humbled enough over the years to just take in strange stares and his own decisions in stride.

.-.-.-.

At lunch, he managed to blend in a little, and he really wished he could've more. The other students tried to be 'polite' about their staring, but they felt so crafty, if not a little judging. His meal was really 'made up' like a princess doll in food form. He made art of everything and tried to see it in everything. He was always cautious when it came to Asian food. Nobody would believe half of his genes with how strongly he took after his father. Althrough neither parent were blonde, he gotten the brown color from his mother.

He went for the bed of sticky rice first to extend the colorful life of the main course a moment longer. What he gotten from the short time spent with his mother was expressed through his meals; this style in particular.

"Cute lunch. You braved your mother's love today, huh?" He looked up to see a brunette girl who had really lovely pigtails that cascaded down her shoulders. Her baby face had a sweet smile too. _Not condescending after all._

He smiled back and answered, "You could say that." He picked up a sliced strawberry but didn't bite until after he added, "It's her birthday today, and I feel closer to her when I make bento boxes."

The other girl was silent for a moment, realizing the meaning behind his answer and also using this time to read his...perfectly fine expression.

"That's really sweet," she giggled and sat down next to him. "My name is Angela, but I really prefer being referred to as 'Angie'."

"My name is Lucas. Nice to meet you, Angie."

"Well I'm glad I've indulged my curiosity. You're pretty pleasant!"

"Did I give off a bad vibe until now...? Genuinely curious here."

"Between awkward wallflower and strand-offish."

"Ah...oops. Seriously, thanks for approaching me, Angie. Give me a good word out there too." He sheepishly chuckled, "if that isn't too much to ask for, that is..."

"Of course not. But do realize my word can only go so far."

"Aha...yeah. I'll definitely be more prepared tomorrow."

"That's good, Lucas." She nodded in a professional manner before leaning closer to him more casually. "My family runs a chain of bakeries. The main one isn't far from the school. Just two stops by bus and one stop on the A train. Petite Abeille."

_Oh. That place..._ He always admired it, but actually purchasing something from there was a different matter altogether. One piece there could be several of _anything_ else. They would either have to offer him something or...

"Would your family happening to be hiring anyone...?"

"Well, usually we only pick up people with degrees and training, but I could always 'give a good word' to my mom. You'd have to reeeally prove yourself, though!"

_Talk about pressure. Not much to lose going along with this, and certainly much more to be gained if I succeed..._

"Alright. Thank you so much, Angie! I'll try my best if she even lets me several steps past the front door.

"Your number?"

"How about you shoot me an email?" There's always scouting for an unsecured network or asking to borrow from a neighbor like the modern cup of sugar.

"'Kay, that works too. Nutmegscent at gmail dot com. Just send me a line, my friends likely want me back by now."

"Ah okay. Sorry for holding you up for so long."  
"Just a matter of time, Lucas," she said as she wandered away.

He mumbled to himself, "that sounded really eerie..."

.-.-.-.

Other classes and especially at second break (two breaks? How amazing), he made sure to hide away better. It was a success all the way to the end of his first day. After school could've been hard. If was anything like his old one, peers would hop on shoulders, or jump in front of you half-way down your route, or shout really loudly for your attention.

He didn't any shortcut here and couldn't afford to get lost. So for now he indulged in his awkward air and followed the provided route. He got on the bus just and, and even managed to weasel himself to the back from a few fellow students. At the end of his stop, he used the sort shwanky back exit too. An action he's sure he'd have to spend a month or more fixing when it comes to reputation. It made him think of that afternoon Psychologist he liked to watch. 'It'd take a thousand 'atta boy's to fix one harsh remark', he'd say. Lucas was sure it applied for any situation and not just parent to child.

After a few minutes of walking, he took in a deep breath and noticed the air was pretty fresh. There were more personal trees down the block, all in brick pots and finely trimmed. There was simply more park around too. He fondly snerked at a ripening cherry blossom he walked under to get across the street to the park, going off course from the route to home. The weather today was rather perfect, the sun was out out enough to make him peel of his sweater and tie it around his waist. Soon, he followed the faint sounds of a classic guitar. It's been awhile since he heard one, but most musicians he came across uptown were usually out of tune, missing something important, or flat out too tired and really needing money, so they simply just kept _trying_.

Over time, dancers quite literally swept them out from the underground, park must've been their new zone. Only a guess, it's been so long since he last went through a park and not a concrete playground labeled as a park. From what he could hear from a distance, the guitar was in really good condition. The playing...very airy but not casual either. No heavy melody to it..._Free style?_

For freestyle it sounded attractive. It incited his curiously. Lured him in. He wanted to see what kind of guitar it was. If it had a wide and round look to it like his father's old guitar. They used to spend afternoon with it when he was younger, especially after his mother's death. It was soothing and...it must've been the same kind—type—however you refer to instruments. He hurried in pace, passing by a few people until he saw the owner. A redheaded young man sitting cross legged on a park bench. He didn't give much attention to the player at first, the guitar's case was wide open beneath him. Inside it had foreign stickers, something that looked french and it made him _really_ want to get close enough to examine everything. The swade inside was honey brown like his father's... His eyes homed in on the guitar, it looked exactly like just how he briefly recalled on his walk here.

He walked a little more forward, not paying mind to the facial expression he held. So focused on the guitar that he didn't feel his eyes widen or even his face color in. Someone stepping in-between him and the player made him reabsorb his surroundings more properly. He bumped into a woman's really large designer bag. He looked at her briefly, close to apologizing for his clumsiness until he saw how starstruck she was. He stepped back and a little around the lady to look at the seemingly skilled guitarist again. His red hair looked feathery and well-kept. The feathered look made the youthful looking ducktail he had pretty funny. Lucas smiled rather out right laugh.

Maybe this person was some sort of college student trying to make extra for something nice to buy? Either way he was very talented and his featured looked sincere and kind. The lady in front of him was much more eager to converse with him. Even bold enough to just go right ahead and ask him out. It made Lucas sheepishly rub the back of his head. Girls in this city were pretty bold. He expected the dolled up purse—_bag_ wielders to be docile counter parts to the sweats wearing types who punched faces in.

"Sorry m'am, I'm not apart of the common team."

"C'mon, you're joking."

"Nope. Pretty gay." Boldness everywhere. "Got approached by a few girls now, got to get it across..."

Lucas decided to 'make a funny'. He flicked his collar as he approached him, and to his slight dismay red eyebrows quirked up. Nevermind. He can't roll with it, he just presented five dollars instead. "...Do I look that bad?" The charming fellow's tone was lighthearted and humored, but even then Lucas panicked.

"What? No!" He flushed and mummured. "I just thought you were good at this. I've heard some pretty..." He strayed, looking for a kind word to those poor souls out there. "_try hard_ players before now-"

The other young man laughed heartily in response. Though after it died down he said, "hey, thanks." He even had a tiny smirk you he couldn't tell if it was mischievous or not. "Heh, you were the first to even give me money."

"So..." He awkwardly held it up again. "You want it?"

"No!" He laughed. "I appreciate the gesture, though. I just like to play." He was careful with the guitar as he leaned back against his seat.

"I assumed you were some sorta college student going for extra cash."

"Oh wow I look old-"

"I-I didn't say that, either!" The way the playful redhead snickered made him feel foolish. Embarrassment and 'foolishness' were two different things to Lucas. The latter makes him huff and get defensive.

"Okay, sorry, don't make that face." Lucas continued to. "Please?"

Lucas snorted softly and looked to the side for a moment. He could hear that a string of the guitar was gently pulled. He still didn't look at the other person when he asked, "had that guitar for awhile...?" He took such good and tender care of it.

"No, got it recently. It had a lot of spirit to it." He just as gently plucked a string. "Alotta personality just glancing at it. Dude at the shop said no one would but it. Sure shocked me, it had so much to it. History, y'know. Some sorta cryptic story to tell that I can't figure out. Just that it seems to be from France, moved around a little...stopped here and has some age to it." He flipped it to the back side and pointed at a mark that sealed the deal for Lucas. "This little sunflower on it is pretty cute, and what even looks like a Mr. Saturn on it! I've always wanted to see one of those rare critters in person..."

Lucas felt his eyes inoffensively sting. He batted his eyes rapidly in an successful attempt to not cry about how close to his childhood he was at this very moment, and so randomly too. How an item sold to take care of him all month was worthless to others for so long until this quirky fellow literally came along and adopted it. A tear fell and as he wiped it, he sheepishly laughed, "Sorry, I'm so awkward..."  
"Oh gee...my sappiness made ya cry..." It was his turn to be a little awkward. He fiddled with the guitar as he looked away from big brown eyes.

"Partially." Lucas was glad to get that fuller attention back. "The case and the details made me hope, the sound brought me here, but the back...was like it said 'long-time no see, Lucas'! My mom put that flower there. She was named after them. And they became sorta like this gag-like symbol to her. Then I drew a Saturn on it about seven years ago. He sold it five years ago..." He smiled at the new owner's wide green eyes. He was even a little rosy himself. "I'm really happy to see it so well taken care of. He had that guitar since he was twenty years old. He said she got it for him and just like that, they were engaged!" He paid careful attention to those eyes of that kind perrosn. They were still large, but his red eyebrows bent in confusion.

"But he sold it...?"

"He had to. Even longer story there." He felt a bit vulnerable when he stated that, but tried to add humor to the air. What he didn't expect was to see the guitar placed into the case and snapped shut. "Huh—the day is still long-"

"Take it back to him."

"But it's yours now-"

"I can get another one."

"But it's yours, and you take such good care of it."

"That story was heart breaking, okay. I can seriously just get another one."

"No—I think it's a great thing you gave it a new life." Lucas smiled and pressed its case against the young man's chest who was handing it to him. "That was a traveling guitar. A free guitar, a playful one—er... Well and frequently played guitar." It wasn't until the case was drummed against that he noticed this guy had pretty thick fingers. He found it amazing how the two good players he's been around had sorta pudgy fingers. His assumptions been on the srota wrong streak lately, but for the better this one time.

"Well..._okay_..." The hesitant male strapped the guitar around his shoulder to rest it on his back. When the two of them stood up, he offered a hand and stated,

"My name is Claus."

"Haha...nice..." Lucas sheepishly replied and gently shook his oddly warm hand. It felt as if Claus held hot tea for several minutes straight. "Claus, you're not going to stop playing it now, are you?" He was genuinely worried. "I must've dumped a heavy baggage on your back, a ton of spoliers to your myster-"

Claus laughed yet again, and much more softly.

"No... you answered my curiosity. It was a shock, and really literally heart breaking. It did confirm my feelings that it did have a lot to tell..."

"Mm...I suppose."

"Though...what is the other way to say 'Sunflower'?"

"Himawari—she was just Hinawa, though." Another slightly unexpected result from the redhead. He was canning him with his eyes so curiously.

"Uh-"

"It sounds Japanese."

"It is.."

"It doesn't look like you have a lick of it in you, though. Adopted?"  
Lucas barked in laughter, "No!" He continued to laugh. "I just strongly take after my dad's looks... except he's not blonde either, but hey, recessive genes. Red's recessive too, and so are the green eyes."

"Heh, I'm a super ginger, I know. And hey, we can be halfies together."

"Eh? 'Halfies'? Really, Claus..."

"Really. My mama's an Asian missus too, a really annoying one, and my dad is an atypical stiff business man who considers himself more important than he really is. I wish my folks sounded half as cute as yours do."

There was a lot that Lucas could've said to that, he even bit his tongue on informing him that his mother was dead. Instead he decided to steer things towards a more humorous direction _and_ take revenge for earlier.

"You're a romanticist, aren't you? Just putting it all together. How you call yourself sappy, use words like 'heartbreaking' and then call my parents cute..." Lucas had a little sorta innocent smirk, but Claus had a traditionally mischievous one in place.

"Yes."

"Well I'm not." Lucas quickly answered and dropped his friendly expression.

"Shocking, eh? Opposite vibes with different inside results. Heh heh."

"Ahem, if you're not going to play here anymore, then where else are you going to?"

"I unno."

"I know a place..." Lucas began as he thought aloud. He knew of somewhere that would benefit all parties involved.

"Y'make it sound like it has some sorta stage and setting to it."

"It does."

"Oh—where is it?"

"I don't remember the name, just where it is. If you don't mind following me."

"Pfft..."

"I know it sounds really weird, but I think it'll work out really well for you..." Lucas was easily able to put himself in the shoes of Claus. If he was in his place, he probably wouldn't have followed him at all.

"Lucas, I've seen, been through and asked weirder." He laughed at Lucas's slightly of put expression. "C'mon, C'mon, the day's young!"

"Don't expect me to hang out long..."  
"~I got homework~" Claus teased as he walked ahead on the way out of the park.

"That's right."

"Yeah, speaking of which, I've never seen or heard of you, yet you have that uniform."

"Huh, you go there? You played hooky on day one?"

"No!" He laughed. "I don't go there, never did. My bratty parents found schools not good enough, then they cherry picked people to educate me."

"So you _are_ a college student." _And rich..._

"No. I'm trying to make them hate me enough to make me a cast away."

Lucas bit his tongue again. He had such good parents of his own that found it hard to hear things like this. While he has seen mean and terrible parents, he always found it incredibly difficult to place himself in the shows of someone who didn't like their 'rents, but what he could empathize with was never butting his nose in with offensive opinions or 'advice' on something he knew nothing about.

Claus was quite the chatter box, even though he missed a lot of what he said, he caught the last bit, "Since I'm almost eighteen, maybe if I hit some sort of viral career I can get out and away even more quickly."

"There's some hipster-y traffic there, so maybe."

"Just hipsters, though? If they like something they try to keep it under wraps, y'know!"

"It's not _all_ hipsters..." Lucas chuckled.

"I would've thought you were one, to be honest."

"I guess? I don't really use labels for much of anything, especially not for myself..."

"Kinda hipster. Kinda." He also chuckled. "Bus?"

Lucas nodded and answered, "I know trains are quicker, but I want to look around."

"It's hard to tell where you're from..."

"Well, I've always lived in this city, just I didn't travel much of it until now."

"Ah, gotcha." He nudged Lucas soon after. "Not one to let curiosity dance awhile, huh?" Lucas sheepishly rubbed the back of his head in reply as Claus whistled cheerfully beside him. He definitely was a ball of sunshine...  
On the bus Lucas offered him to sit down, but the quirky redhead insisted that Lucas sit instead as he rocked his weight on the hanging hooks with surprising control and balance. He didn't sit until a seat next to Lucas cleared. The ride was long and so was the trail of this new acquaintance's voice. To not be rude... Lucas still didn't get to watch the ride out of the windows. Off the bus, he was back to familiar territory. He waved for Claus to follow him and the other male didn't seem as curious or mildly lost like Lucas was downtown. Claus's origins was the confusing one as of now, and Lucas wasn't one to ask so easily.

"Haha a vegan joint?" Claus looked at him with a bit of mockery. Oddly fond looking mockery from what Lucas could pick up from it. "You're a vegan?"

"No," Lucas answered and opened the door. "I'm just not picky about what I consume."

"Oh yeah, definitely not a vegan," Claus whispered and strolled right on in.

Lucas kept his tone just as low as he said, "you're the charismatic showman here, do your stuff. I'm just a regular stand in like a 'non-paid' statement in a commercial." He smiled when Claus flashed a confident grin at him and strutted over to the biggest register where a lot of the staff was. When he saw that things were going well, he sat down and got his homework out.

Claus on stage was good enough success on all parties as he hoped for. He left while the entertainer was doing his thing, even showing off an impressive singing voice. Lucas had no number to give and his current email was embarrassing, he needed a new one to hand out and another for work. Claus was an interesting person, and he had an inkling of regret that he didn't get any form of contact with him. But once on stage he was too nerve wrecking to approach. He didn't have the time to stay until closing or to visit frequently... but he felt certain he could be easy to find if he was familiar with his school and now played at a vegan bar that still wasn't too close to home. He didn't have enough for a convenient bus ride home. He ran out of transfer time and bought that juiced drink. Still, he had a smile on his silent way home.

**A/N: **

**Ten pages written by hand, seven when typed, hah. I have several chapters made by hand while I struggle through a hard stage in life. When I'm wandering around or other I write this in a notebook by hand. It's pretty soothing to make and it feels good to do any and all kind of progress even on a piece of fiction like this. I will periodically drop mini updates on tumblr (status, ideas, and even art by keriito on ao3 heir-time on tumblr.**  
**my tumblr is perfchroma**  
**I plan to update this on saturdays most definitely. There may be instances when I update it earlier like today, but saturday is my golden day.**


	2. What's Best

**A/N: If you see any grammatical errors and stuff please let me know. I pushed this out because I was late when I said I'd have it out by Saturday My week was so long and busy I'd keep falling asleep and my internet times are limited. So I just pushed this out as quickly as possible to make up for it being late. And since I want to kept flow and momentum I likely won't have time to thoroughly comb through chapters myself so it'd be of great help. Thank you for reviewing and following along this story!**

Sometimes Lucas wondered if his incompatibility with the morning went hand-in-hand with how his actions were most fluid at night. Everything was done in better concentration at later hours. He cleaned the kitchen and main room thoroughly in one fell swoop. He fixed the floral rags on the stove's door as if he just finished baked and was expecting visitors any moment. The main room's table he tenderly wiped down was a favorite of his. He loved glass; elevators, mirrors, windows and table tops (Crystals were a different thing altogether). He kept this table sparkling and always nagged his father to eat on a tray or cloth when on it.

This table was oddly one of his most prized purchases, something he earned two years ago with his first job. If he hadn't done his homework at the bar he would have here; he done just about everything here. Currently, he carefully placed tea and cookies on the table next to a tiny notebook. It was a bucket list of sorts with many pages with crossed out sentences. There was also self-imposed schedules in it on every other page. He flipped by a fresh chart of email names he completed through a little while ago. With one hand he grabbed a cup of chamomile tea with diced pineapple in it, and in another hand a pen.

He began another comparison chart on what was most-to-least favorable when it came to auditioning for Angie's mother; it was nothing but a blind guess. All Angie gave him online was an okay rather than a task, hint, or mission to carry out. He refreshed several times on 1 bar internet for a reply he never received. His mind echoed back to, 'Only a matter of time, Lucas'. She was always pretty darn vague—well not _'always', _he hadn't interacted with her enough to come to that conclusion yet, but so far he always felt tested by her. Just that 'okay' but not a date kept him on heavy-duty guard. It could be after school school for all he knew.

Trust level in Angie had decreased, but determination to get over this and win rose up. His tea flavor ideas he withheld on in case he ever owned his own cafe someday, but maybe baked treats 'leaking' were in his favor. Something unique or traditional...? He scribbled ideas down at a rapid pace, ambitious enough to gamble with ingredients he didn't even have yet. It would be out of his budget but he decided to call that an _investment_. A silly clock chimed to signal that it was, to his surprise, eleven at night. He had yet to even write his 'introduction' speech he found so unnecessary, He looked over to the apartment's door in thought; his father hadn't come in at all.

"He's working overtime again..." he sighed and watched the door for awhile longer. "Guess I could leave him a note that I might be getting a job soon... He could spend more time with Hinata this way." He should've figured that he was working overtime with the absence of his little sister around, though there were times when he came in with her sleeping on his shoulders; just not this late in the evening. As much as Lucas worried for her next day of school without seeing either him or their dad, he fondly thought aloud, "Ionia got her covered".

Family friend Ionia had taken great care of him when he was younger. Apparently, Ionia had Hinawa covered when _she_ was young herself. It made his mind wander and think aloud, "Ionia is kinda eternally young," he chuckled. Though Ionia's friend Lydia (he thinks) maybe looked older, and another one in yellow who was as drowsy as himself. Lucas turned to a clean page of this cluttered notebook to brainstorm on what to say in front of his peers in the morning. "Gonna be late tomorrow, gonna be that dork who reads from a raggedy book if I don't rewrite it elsewhere, gonna tilt the awk scale indefinitely..." He pressed his pen down on the page and paused. "But I'm gonna get that job."

He began slowly writing with pressure.

"And make a great dinner for four tomorrow."

_**You can do this, Lucas.**_

.-.-.-.

"Hi I'm Lucas, and I'm not going to hide my accent of the upper city. I'm not late because of the distance, but because my brain is most active at night. I come from that school that closed down when it couldn't keep the summer school students healthy. Obviously that wasn't the core reason but the last ship to break the kraken's neck." Students laughed and he hoped it was at the mention of a kraken of all things. "I could've came here at the start of highschool but... I wanted to stay with friends and in the following years, I wanted to stay loyal to teacher who struggled and tried their absolute best with even the rowdiest students there. Angie said yesterday I was 'in between standoffish and awkward wallflower'. I thought about it, and it's true. I'm both of those things." He took an evened breather before he continued.

"I'm talking your ear off now but I'm not all that social, I just want to get stuff out of the way. Anyway, that doesn't mean I'm not interactive or reactive. I may not approach you, but approaching me is alright."

"Not encouraged?!" A male playfully shouted.

"Raymond," the professor began to warn but Lucas had a crooked smirk when he answered back.

"You decide that on your own. I'm not one with a lot of free time in the day, so getting at me at night is best if you choose t'do so." He closed his book and placed both hands behind back. "That's all... No solid cutoff, but I'm sure you all expected that." He moved for his seat before anyone, even his teacher got the chance to comment any further on the matter. For someone in the middle of two-dozen students he done it quickly and neatly.

"I honestly didn't expect you to come up here on the second day, Lucas, but I praise the dutiful abilities you've displayed thusfar."

Lucas only nodded in reply. He hid behind the guise of organizing his bag to not talk any further. He was bracing for smart alecs and sincerely curious people to approach him at break. He's actually been bracing since last night, even more when making a more standard lunch. ...He had a bit of fun making the bread, dashed herbs on the outside, foot long, something that could mimic a fresher looking Subways. He really just wanted to save other ingredients for dinner _without_ alerting Ionia that he needed some help. He wanted to make edible magic out of nothing and show Ionia that he and his family are pulling along strongly.

Just as he was about to take a bit of his hero, he saw Angie coming by with two other girls behind her. Instead of biting his sandwich, he put it down and raised a hand in silent greeting. He didn't say silent however.

"Is today good, Angie?"

"My, you could be psychic. I was dropping by to let you know that we can go together."

His eyes briefly drifted to the other girls. They made him suspicious and made the atmosphere feel clogged—hard to breathe. He found the path his intuition was going disappointing. He wanted to be able to trust, like, and get to properly know Angie, but her actions kept flowing wind to his red flags.

"How?"

"By bus, silly." An answer he didn't want to hear. He was willing to walk to save that lovely 2.50 and he will.

"I don't have the card for that, gonna walk."

A pair of 'eh' hung in the air before she spoke up.

"You can't walk home, so uh?"  
"I'm not. I have the fare for that but not for a couple of blocks."

"O...kay I guess."  
"I'll be there, we just won't be going together. I'm sorry."

From the way she briefly looked away from him to her friends, then to looking at him before she and her friends left, he could only guess that she wasn't used to that kind of honesty without a dab of shame behind it. He finally gotten to take a bite of his turkey sandwich filled to the edged with vegetables. He snerked when he thought back to Claus's assumption. He thought, "Wait until that guy finds out all the things you could do with turkey." He'd say something like, 'Chicken is versatile, but turkey is most expansive'. Lucas didn't have a set career in mind, but he kept note of what roused positive feelings in him. He loved to inform and teach...but he wasn't sure if that was for him. He loved cooking and sharing ideas—a table income, but not something to 'rise up' from. Artst was the ultimate gamble and something he thought was unfortunate that he favored it most.

He was really good at making clothes, even learning how to customize shoes he thought about selling to cosplayers at some point. His mother was a seamstress, She had her own little store and even classes for the old and young alike, a surprising beacon to that community. He was around as much as possible and learned all that he could from her, even before going to bed he would. Instead of simple night time stories and warm milk, he had stories and knitting. His father had some skill in the area, but moved to carpentry, construction and other 'rough n' reckless' work. As much as Lucas disliked construction and its dangerous cousins, the income was highest.

"...Really want that job." he sighed quietly. School day felt much longer today. He spent it wondering about his father and sister and getting the job he started to feel scared of the closer to the end of school it got. He realized just how much _hope_ and dependency he placed in something unknown and now guaranteed. There was logic behind the illogical, and he was scraping up logic points to get back in the determinator groove he had all night. He told himself, "You're cute, you're impressionable on others when you put energy into it, you can cook, you can serve, you can go there after school and cram at night—you never sleep anyway. Buy more green tea because coffee will ruin you, and energy drinks will kill you-". Last bell rung and he swallowed in response.

He waited for others to flush out first as he slowly put his things away. He really wanted to be the last one out, but of course he was being watched again. He felt like an exhibit and he wasn't sure if he made it worse with that speech. He was honest, honest was best, discrepancy second best.

…

Those stares were so persistent too. His eyes moved to see just a little of the other peepers before getting up and out, making sure to keep his head up high to not give an invite to bully. (But they would be sorry to even try regardless). The halls were shockingly not empty. People chatted right in the middle of the halls; either personally or digitally. Some were leaned against walls, standing and sitting with their thumbs ablazed on phones and tablets. At least there were no make outs. He didn't see Angie but he did see her friends. They weren't trying very hard to hide their judging dislike of him. Ignoring people like this was the best and most ironic response.

Even outside there was no sight of Angie. He begun to wonder if he even needed her present to begin this trial of a (hopefully) easy job with pretty good pay. On the way there he could even decide he would sell his weekends to them or not—maybe just one—_no._ _None at all._ He can juggle with Flint, more sane and fair that way. He sighed and kept his eyes up high to stay allign with bus stop signs to his destination. He vaguely remembered where the store was (in general). It was on tv a few times-

"Oh geeze". To be on tv... His nightmare. Script or no, tvs just... he just hated the idea of even more (critical) stares on him. He stopped to look at his forearm. Red spots that have yet to rise. "Let's keep it that way, body, please. Short sleeves in that store..." His sentence trailed off as he sat down on a bus bench.

As awkward as sitting on these things were when not waiting for a bus, he really needed to calm down. Think positive. Think about how he could support his father and make his sister happier. How he can buy something nice for everyone again, or how they can find a perfect day to go see a movie or even eat out for once. He rubbed his knees as he breathed in through his nose and gently out of his mouth. After seven rounds of this breathing technique, he stood up and moved down the block and away from the bus stop. As illogical as it was, he knew full well he would swell up from awkward-embarrassment if the bus arrived there. It was back when he was a younger teenager when it happened only once in his life. When the bus door opened, the driver stared at him then closed it but his face was visible through the window. Judging and angry like 'why are you even sitting there for only one type of bus comes here'. It followed him for life.

Lucas covered his face briefly when he hid behind an abandoned and broken payphone. His arms weren't red and threatening to bake hives for all to see anymore, but he still had one more hurdle to go over—his brain. Sometimes he just wanted to be able to either _just feel_ without analyzing and questioning it, and to go into things without having to balance and scale things. While it gave him grief, it usually kept bases afloat. He kept himself in order for his sister and even himself in the long run, he had good face to keep his dad going and not sit back to hug and coddle him. So while he was really making himself miserable in areas, it paid off—never ending this cycle.

"You need this job. Go in there and do whatever she says." He squeezed his legs with his fingers while rapidly beating his eye lashes to fix the sting in his eyes. For a second, he thought about how this would have a connection to his school and inevitably to home but he chased that thought out. "Deal with that. Deal with everything, alright?" He sighed out, slow and hard and took a step forward. "Dad can, you can." He kept walking. "Dad can do a lot of things..." That comment made him smile when he thought about how one time for his birthday, Flint came home from a long day and still made a nice small dinner anyway. Or how he'd get up for his wailing baby sister even after he insisted he could care for him. Flint would say, 'you have a test at school, go to bed I got this'.

He needed to think of Flint in these situations more often; that man was his hero and the most inspiring human in his life. Before he even knew it, he was strolling down the block much more quickly than he had before. He sobered up only slightly when he saw a bee fairy hanging over his head, the mascot of the store. Or in more formal terms 'the personality' of the store. He smoothed out his clothes before pushing the glass doors and stepping inside. He expected to see Angie in view but she wasn't anywhere to be seen, just some ordinary guy at the register and people dining on prettied up waffles. Fortunately his massive lunch would save him from having his stomach growling in front of everyone.

"I was told the owner would be here today."

The cashier looked surprised and replied, "Whoa really? I never seen her before."

"But..."

"You talked to her daughter or something?"

"Right." He was trying to keep composure in his voice. It felt like things were falling apart around him.

"Her mom has the most random schedule... I mean I worked here for two years and never seen her. Maybe you're supposed to meet her somewhere else and not here?"

"What—but where else?" Composure lost. His cheeks colored in from embarrassment, but he focused all of his courage to keep looking at the actually employed person.

"Dunno man but it not here it had to be somewhere else."

Lucas exhaled roughly as his eyes darted around for a near by phone in the store. He saw none and he really didn't want to ask. Announcing his lack of phone to the public was always a distressing thing. He wasn't sure what to say, awkwardly turning around and to the door. Despite how wide opened his eyes were, it was like he was blindly walking into a white light. Bumping into a fairly broad chest didn't make him see any clearer.

"Ohmygod I'm so sorry I-" his eyes were tightly shut. He didn't want to leave room for another judging face to be stuck in his memories and he didn't want to hear 'it's okay'. Lucas was out the door and running. He realized his panic by the time he turned a corner and hid behind a tree. His face was on fire, his chest felt tight, and his arms felt like they wanted to fall off.

But his legs were able to keep moving despite this. A subway station was across the street and going underground just felt so right and cozy. It was quite literally going into a hole, and that hole would lead to home. He didn't sit when he was in the train itself, he stayed standing, avoiding eye contact with anyone who entered the train. He felt a crushing weight on his shoulders but he made himself hold onto poles all the way home. He tried to fix his expression the closer to home he gotten, but it was hard. He already left that note to Flint, he already built up expectations... he wasn't sure how he'd deal with Angie the next day, he wasn't even sure if he wanted to go to school the next day.

"At least I didn't announce I was going to make a dinner for anyone." Inside his building complex, he avoided the elevator, he very well walked up six flights of stairs. It would give his father and sister something else to focus on rather than ask questions about 'the job'. "At least I didn't go into detail about it..." Four flights he was panting very hard, his shoulders felt most sore. He didn't give them a break from bag straps and he still didn't. He leaned on the side of the wall to get a breather before climbing up to the fifth floor. He wandered out of the stair well at that point and rung for the elevator. It was on the 16th floor and by the time it was on the 13th, he slid down the wall and sat down with his arms around his knees.

When the elevator arrived his breathing wasn't as much of a mess anymore. He walked away from it and back to the stairs, finally reaching floor six. He let his bags crash down on the hallway floor before pushing the bell on their door.

"Daaaad the door!" He sighed and smiled hearing that they were both there.

"It's me, my keys are lost in this black hole of a bag..."

"Oh, Lucas," his father opened the door with a wide smile until he saw his tired condition. It went stern instead. "You need to sit down, boy. I got your bag get in and sit." He circled him and pushed him inside, all while swiftly grabbing his bag and shutting the door. As he locked it he asked, "Did you walk all the way back or what?"

"Haha no...the elevator was so high up so I walked instead."

"With that bag and your shoulders?" He laughed and patted his back. "Is that okay?"

"For now, I'd say," Lucas wearily laughed and sat on the sofa. "Hinata, how was your week so far...?"

She shrugged. He could see she was curiously studying his features with her green eyes.

"Yours looked tough."

He laughed nervously in reply, "No not at all. I'm alright, I missed you, y'know." He smoothed down loose strands of her brown hair. It was a little troubling how similar her hair was to Hinawa's. It didn't have the strength and thickness his had that he inherited from his father. He always found strands of hair on her pillow, clothes, or even in his fingers when he pet through it. That combined with his father's early baldness really troubled him. She was a pretty little thing, looking like Hinawa but with 'Flint's colors' as Ionia would (strangely) say. He pressed her nose like a button with his thumb.

"Stawp! You always do that." She complained and covered her nose with her small hands.

"It's like a button..." Lucas replied and leaned against the sofa's pillows more.

"I hate that."

"It's mom's nose."

"Yeah, but no one pressed your long and pointy one...!" He chuckled as he laid further down. He really was tired, but he felt much more relaxed now. "Which blanket do you want?"

"The light weight yellow one, please..." He smiled and closed his eyes.

"You're going to need that rest for tomorrow. Don't worry about anything, Lucas, I have the day off tomorrow." His head was ruffled. He felt the hesitation from his father before the gesture. He got why he tried to do it less often, 'almost a man' or something along those lines, but he actually really favored them.

"I want the day off too."

"Eh?"

"I don't want to go tomorrow... It'll be alright, dad. Just want to spend the day with you." He yaaawned loudly when his father was about to speak. He had a satisfied smile when he heard him laugh.

"You're not a young boy anymore, Lucas. No tricks."

"I'm not playing tricks, honest. It's just one day. The stuff there is so standard, it's just a pretentious place."

"You're not a young boy anymore. If that's what you're going to do, then do it. But not _all_ the time."

"You know I wouldn't do that."

"That's the point." His head was ruffled again. "You yawned real big after one of these."

"Because you guys are the best. So glad you're here, you know." A blanket was tossed over him, and after the action he heard her little shoes clicking around the couch to pat him on the head too. "You, don't get your hand stuck in there again."

"Your hand is always in mine."

"Because it's thinner..."

His little sister was picked up before she was able to continue on this banter with her brother 12 years her senior.

"He needs to sleep. You'll get to him in the morning, and you can even bother him for your favorite pancakes, I bought all the right things," Flint stated as he walked out of the room to the kitchen. "But right now we're going to make Lucas something to wake up to in a few, you know whatta owl he is."

Lucas just wanted to do so much for them.


	3. Sleeping on it

Sleeping in fours (and halves) was always an issue with Lucas, but maybe this time it was in his favor. He officially fell asleep at 7:30 and woke at midnight. He kept hold of his given blanket on the way to the kitchen. He prayed for some kind of alfredo to have been made. Shrimp, asparagus or broccoli would be perfect. He hurried to the fridge, and when opened, there it was, teasingly embraced in clear wrapping rather than merciful and ordinary foil. They really did make his favorite and he was joyful to receive and consume this like a menstruating woman equipped with chocolate.

It was on Hinata's favorite saucer with that oddly shaped fork she spent so much time being fixated on. Four to five, and maybe to ages six and up as well. He couldn't hold it against her (not that he would over a fork), he had strange patterns and attachments of his own. The fact that she was sharing it with him though... he had to find a way to return the favor later, for now, as hungry for this as he was, he wanted to preserve the texture of the linguine and placed it in the oven. He grabbed a roll, cut it open and spread butter across it. When he grabbed a frying pan, he also grabbed a hold of garlic salt. Garlic bread would do for now—cheddar biscuits next night for everyone _for sure_.

"Aged cheddar too~" he sleepily giggled. "What herb to put on it, though..." he briefly wondered. That is until his stomach growled for that grilling roll. His stomach and brain were frequent conflicts, and sometimes it worked to his advantage. It very well could've today, now that he thought about it. If he were hungry, or _starving_, he wouldn't have had the energy to panic and over think, maybe even not over feel as well. Hunger gave him increased apathy he's learned a few years ago, and also back then he learned he preferred apathy to an extent, just not the kind that would hurt others. If he had it yesterday he would've been able to just deal and think about what to chow down on when he got home. Or how to cook it—or a number of things concerning homely food and his family. He switched off the gas and picked up his roll. He impatiently waved the heat from it before biting into it.

It helped that his alfredo was giving off an amazing aroma from below. When the roll _successfully_ consumed, he went back into the fridge for tea to brew. All of it was stored in plastic containers he rather not have them in; their scents were imprisoned this way. Unfortunately they would reside there until the slight bug problem was completely eradicated. ...Something to check for _after_ alfredo time. He was still in a chamomile mood but this time plain. He withdrew a handful of the shredded petals and tightly held onto it until he put them in a china kettle and really went down to business. Water to the pot, pot to the stove, now to wait for it to _boil_.

He could never make tea without thinking about his strange sister. She was the type of child to wait for the sun to rise on weekends, and every-single-time to see water boil. It all started from a side comment he made. 'If you watch the pot, the water won't boil', but she had to see it for herself and prove the obvious. She watched it every time even after the first time, and she even boiled a lot of her own water. She also would request that whenever Lucas made her an egg to eat, to pour a little water on it so she could watch it sizzle and evaporate. He was a strange child himself, and with two out of three so strange... he wondered about his twin he never met. Someone who he knew nothing about, not even if they were identical or not—only their birthdays.

He was born 11:56 PM on the 21st of June, his twin 112:01 AM on the 22nd. When he was younger, he talked about his twin all the time in classes, finding the scenario cool but increasingly depressing as the years ran on. He soon stopped talking and thinking about it altogether. His father never stopped looking for his brother, and that was honestly the major reason why he never completely forgot his twin Claus. 'Claus' was such a ridiculously common name unlike his own, and his even had an accent to it. The silent 's' he rarely bothered to correct others about. If they cared or paid attention enough to the way he said it the first time, they would always say it correctly, and it'd only made sense to read his name off an attendance sheet the way they pronounce it in this country. He was never born in France anyway (even though he enjoyed the sound of 'loo-kah').

"Older sibling to two..." he murmered before the old fashioned timer rang only once from the oven. Dinosaur oven mitts were equipped to withdraw the goods. His eyes dilated and glistened at the meal and how the sauce bubbled just a little bit to show just how perfect even the temperature was. He placed it on top of the stove so he could prepare his tea just by pouring hot water through it. With everything ready to go, he was able to place it all on top of a tray decked with lobsters posing and wearing sunglasses. To his favorite counter he went and as he began to sit after carefully placing his meal down, he quickly rose up again. Things weren't all 'ready to go', he didn't know where the television remote was. He sighed heavily before he sped around the small living room, hoping his sister didn't hold it with her to bed. He never took the cable box in to be exchanged for one whose manual buttons actually worked. She never necessarily used it, she just liked how it glowed.

...He didn't find it within four minutes of searching and returned to his still warm meal. His sigh was softer because he knew he couldn't _complain_, he still had a nice meal with a nice gesture atop another. First bite was heaven; saucy dishes were his father's specialty. The man's cooking wasn't as expansive as his or Hinawa's, but what he could do was 'pretty damn good'. If Lucas wasn't on his knees as he ate, his ankle would be swaying along to his happy humming. He eyed the clock that read 12:28 AM, he wanted to be mindful of the time so he could wake up and make breakfast.

"2AM maybe." Until then, he'd have to find something to do after he finished that delicious specially-made-for-him meal. Zone out to basic late night tv, eat a tiiiny bit more, or go to a computer without internet were his choices. His desktop had a massive library of downloaded games but not so much shows—he made it a habit to just stream those... He could also write, but being unable to post it immediately would bug him so much and potentially keep him up at night about changes. He sighed again and flopped onto his back. Urge to knit was lowered in warmer seasons, summer was right around the corner too; his birthday too. The day when he would turn the unspecial eighteen years old.

He was resident buzzkill to others in his old school for not finding the 'milestone' to be such a huge thing. 'Still can't do a lot until you're twenty-one', he'd say. 'There's still _'teen'_ in there' he'd also say. He gad a smirkish smile at the young and fresh memory. Most of those very people scattered about after the shut down, and without internet or phone, he wasn't going to find them anytime soon. Only two he could find, Fuel and Nana. Duster wasn't a _buddy_, but an odd mentor, teacher, uncle, friend...ish person he could also find. Maybe later today he'd visit them or stalk the store for Angie or find her mystery parent. Or visit the 'veggie joint'. Half of the day belong to him and his father if he could manage time correctly.

Clock read 12:49 AM.

"Maybe 1:30 is a better time to go back down." At 12:55 he cleaned his used dishes and tabe and wandered to his room by 1:05. In bed, he was secured in a cocoon, all the way over his hair. He was unable to 'officially' sleep until ten minutes past 2 after all.

6:45 he was waken up by his sister. Itty bitty hand pats directly to his rosy cheeks. He blinked as much of the sleep away as he could but still felt a bit of daze.

"I'll help you sit up. I was thinking of breakfast so much that it was really hard to sleep!"

"_Did_ you sleep at all?"

"Yeah-uh! I did. I said it was hard to, not that I didn't sleep."

"Alright, alright, bossy lil' lady. What'd you want?"

"Sweet pancakes! Cheesy eggs! And Peppermint tea to keep it all down!"

Lucas sat up more on his own and clasped his hands together on top of his lap.

"Okay. How about pancake, egg, and sweet peppermint tea?" She frowned in reply. "You're getting on a wobbly school bus, then you're going to be standing between the heat of 28 children and climbing three flights of stairs. All of that will make all that food swish around in your tummy, so much that tea would not save you, and probably not peptobismol either." From the look of her face, that surely got the thinking gears grinding.

"Well...Okay. I'll go with that."

"Good. That's the perfect decision!" Lucas said and gave her the best smile could in his sleepiness.

"I think another good decision would be not to leave until you're out of bed."

"Oh please, lil' miss. You don't have to supervise me when it comes to important things like food." When he moved a leg to get out of bed, she moved (excitedly) herself. "And you gave me your favorite set to eat with. How sweet of you."

She grinned in exclaimed, "Because you looked sad, and people like special things even if they're like, temporary gifts."

Lucas chuckled at 'temporary gifts', it sounded so silly. He knew she meant to use the word 'loan' in place.

"That's right, and your actions is called being considerate and kind. Did dad tell you what he always says about kindness?"

"Uhm...I probably forgot," she sheepishly replied.

"He says 'it's one of the most important things for us humans, so let's be kind to others.' and I think about those words all the time. He's one of the nicest people around, wouldn't you say?"

She nodded and answered, "Yeah. It's funny how people are afraid of him at first, though!"

Lucas had a sheepish laugh in reply. He saw first hand a few times on why people would fear their father. He lived up to his powerful gruff looks, he thankfully had relatively good control of it. He's been good for four years and going now. It's always his family that amazingly brings out both the worst and best out of him.

"He's a really strong man. Not a lot of people are that strong, it's why he's hired so easily."

"Yeah but still..." She innocently trailed off as she slowly walked her way out of his room. Her head stayed focused on him however.

"I'm standing up with my arms on my head, officer." Lucas joked on _his_ way out his room. She giggled and ran out to the kitchen. When he arrived right after her, he saw her sit with Flint who was reading the daily paper. "Y'want anything, dad?"

"Indeed I do."

"Sammich I bet?"

"No not this time. We're running low, so let's keep the adventurous individual meals low."

"Well...yeah I guess two days is kinda far, but I wouldn't mind ramen nights in favor for an amazing breakfast."

"Frozen veggies are 99cents we can do it!" That got a laughter out of Flint and Lucas.

"What'd you say? Team decision," Lucas asked as he opened the fridge.

"No regrets then..."

"That's right, no regrets..." Lucas gingerly stated as he dug into the fridge. Thinking about how he still had a chance to go to class and face Angie.

.-.-.-.

Which he did not do. After taking his sister off to school, he came right back home to his father who was napping. The television was left on, and it was displaying a show on geography; European culture and its land marks. He watched his sleeping form, how for a strong and broad man, he had the slightlest curl in the way he slept on this couch. Wasn't to fit, he wasn't very tall, and even smaller next to his best friend 'Lighter'. Lucas was actually the tallest, and though his mother passed before his growth-spurt, he surpassed his mother's height as well after it finished. While he would love to let his father get as much rest as possible, he gently stirred him awake and softly asked, "Want anything from Duster?"

"Mmm...no? You're going to Duster's or Wess's?"

"Duster's. I'll be back soon," Lucas replied with a smile and left for the door again. It was too early to see Fuel today, and with his mature outfit he could look older than a teenager and not attract truancy. He had extra fare as of today and chose to ride the bus to Duster's, finally getting the chance to enjoy watching the horizon scroll by at least once this week. Everything was familiar to his senses, but it wasn't the less nicer to him; he had a smile for the entire ride.

**A/N I actually cut this chapter because I wanted to get my update out. THESE TIME CONSTRAINTS MAKE ME CRY. Though I will try to get something more fuller next week. I actually had a bad stress the last few days which made getting this done harder. **

**Also addressing the twin thing now, I know canonically Claus is the older twin but not in this story oooohhh**


End file.
